SKETCH
Boris Johnson, as everyone who has ever clapped eyes on him must be aware, works hard to appear as if he has just got out of bed after a rough night.
The rumpled hair - call the style pre-Trump - the suit that is a size too large for his frame, the stooped walk.
The man holds his head at the sort of angle you might find on an abashed schoolboy; one who knows he deserves the cane, but thinks he'll get away with it.
He usually does – having led the charge to withdraw Britain from Europe, he emerged as Foreign Secretary, which at least proves British decision makers, post-Brexit, haven't lost their sense of the ridiculous entirely.
Enter Australia's Foreign Minister, Julie Bishop.
Ms Bishop cares about wardrobes – she must surely keep several, particularly well-stocked, at far-flung addresses. Her famed death stare would be a thing of nightmares if you were ever to suggest she appeared as if she'd just emerged from bed after a rough night.
Little wonder then, that Ms Bishop's sense of style quite overtook her when she was confronted with tousled Boris in full, carefully staged disorder, his tie – naturally – askew.
Ms Bishop took it upon herself to put the silly boy to rights when they met in London.
With fingers skilled by years of dealing with high fashion, she managed to restore his tie – which had the small end visibly dangling – to something resembling what a Foreign Secretary might be expected to wear at a high-level diplomatic gathering.
Boris looked suitably sheepish. He'd avoided the cane, after all.
But you still wouldn't want to think too hard about where, by his shambolic demeanour, he might have spent the night.